The Odyssey
by MusicBoxDancer
Summary: While blown off course on a routine shipping assignment, an American merchant ship, The Odyssey, encounters Jack Aubrey and the Surprise
1. Chapter 1

  
Chapter 1 – Inaugural Voyage of the Odyssey 

Captain Alexander Dawson stood on the deck of his newly coppered merchant ship _Odyssey_, surveying the provisions and mostly importantly - the cargo - being loaded into the hold. The boisterous, animated voices of the crew played in harmony with activity in the already bustling shipyard. Many were getting underway for their various assignments.

An early morning fog that had enshrouded Boston Harbor earlier that morning was now dissipating as Dawson could now see across the shipyard through the veil of mist. After gauging his best time for departure, he turned his attention back to the cargo loading. Mostly tobacco, textiles, cotton, coffee, and molasses this time although during his career, Dawson had not above shipping contraband for some extra money. He narrowly escaped a French schooner bearing down on him on the last trip out. All part of the game, but not without risk. It was after that close call that Dawson decided to re-copper the bottom of the ship to facilitate more speed should he ever need it again.

There was inherent risk in shipping of any kind since the onset of hostilities between France and England, America's two biggest trading partners. Merchant ships typically carried no guns which left them vulnerable to corsairs and privateers, not to mention the press-gangs of various navies. America declared herself as a neutral in their war, but this did not protect her ships from foreign harassment.

He still had reservations about taking his son and daughter along on this voyage, but he couldn't really leave them at home. His heart still mourned the recent loss of his beloved wife Mary. Her death was very hard on the children. His son Joseph insisted he would be a help to his father on this voyage since he had sailed with him numerous times. Now at age 16, he clearly showed the seamanship and skill to garner him a solid position in the merchant fleet, or even the Navy if he chose. His daughter, Kathryn, was recently widowed. A cruel loss to be endured for a young woman in her early 20s, followed so closely by the death of her mother. She didn't want to stay behind, alone in Boston, with all her well-meaning friends and relatives constantly reminding her of the loss. Dawson agreed to bring them both along, impressing upon Joseph his duty to look out for and protect his sister. They would bear this loss together.

Dawson heard the church bell toll from across the harbor and checked his own timepiece for accuracy. His crew had loaded and secured the cargo and were now busy with the bunt and clew lines. The sails were being manned. The winds were light and variable. The fog had finally lifted.

The _Odyssey_ was ready to get to sea, and Captain Dawson smiled in anticipation.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – English Sail Sighted

May 4, 1805 - Personal Log – Alexander Dawson – 50°37'52"N 31°22'29"W - Enroute to Naples, Italy

_Gale finally abated before dawn. After mustering all hands, 10 of our crew are unaccounted for and are presumed lost to the storm. In addition, the tops'l on our mainmast was carried away, with it presumably many of our most capable hands, as were several spars off the mizzen. Repairs were underway at day's first light._

_Thank Providence my children are safe! Kathryn stayed below during the worst of the storm and offered much help to the surgeon as the injured came below. Joseph manned the sails with the rest of the able hands well into the night. I'm sure their mother would be as proud of both of them as I am._

_Dr. Samuel reports 22 of my people have reported to him for injuries, many of them minor, thank Providence. Broken bones and sprains. Ship's provisions and cargo have been secured and the carpenter reports no compromise to Odyssey's hull._

_In addition to our troubles, we have been blown off course approximately 40 miles. By my calculations, our current position is well within the path of shipping lanes used by many countries, so we are not too far from civilization. An encounter with either the Royal Navy or the French is likely in these waters. This causes me concern as I can ill afford the loss of more men to their wretched press gangs!  
With regard to my cargo, should anyone search it, I am carrying innocuous goods to my immediate destination, however, on the return trip, I may be forced to deliver to France cargo of quite a different nature. _

Dawson quickly set down his quill and held the page over the nearby candle, watching the paper burn away into nothing. He shook his head at his momentary carelessness for having put such information into his personal log entries. The long night fighting the storm plus the knock on the head he took on deck must have confused him. He rewrote the latter portion of his log, carefully omitting anything incriminating. Should he be searched by one of His Majesty's war ships, he did not want the boarding officers to find anything that may invite further questions, possibly leading to the seizure of his ship.

"On deck there! Sail ho!" Dawson leaped to his feet and headed up on deck where most of his crew were bustling about with repairs, the sound of hammers momentarily suspended as all eyes fastened on the tiny speck of white canvas just over the horizon. Too far away to discern what kind of ship it was, let alone what nationality she belonged to.

His sailing master, Thomas Cullin, approached and held out a glass for him.

"Who shall we hope for, sir?"

Peering through the glass, Dawson noted the stranger was still too far away for identification but it was definitely approaching them. He was certain of it.

"Well, let's hope she's one of ours. These are waters used by Americans. Our merchant fleet is second in size only to our British cousins. It may be a Yankee merchant."

He put the glass back up to his eye. She was closer now – and increasing speed. But she was facing in such a direction that her colors were obscured by the sun's glare.

Joseph appearedby his side just then, this shirt nearly dry now from last night.

"Father, who is it?"

Dawson turned to his son and furrowed his brow.

"Has the surgeon seen to this? Was this from the storm?" He gently touched the rather pronounced bruise forming on the boy's face.

"It is nothing, father. I was struck by a falling spar while working the sails. It was my own fault for not getting out of the way sooner. Who is approaching?"

Despite his concern, Dawson smiled. His boy was tough and well on his way to becoming a competent sailor.

"I am not certain yet. She's heading at us straight from the east and the sun is making it hard to see. Here take a look," he handed the boy his glass.

After several minutes of watching, Joseph held out the glass. "Father, she is flying English colors."

Dawson took the glass back and saw it for himself. She was a fast ship, that was certain. A three-masted frigate approaching them at least at 7 or 8 knots, and flying the English ensign.

"Joseph, the storm torn away our flag in the night. Run up a newflag, if you please. You know where I keep them."

The boy nodded and ran aft as thesailing master, Cullin, approached Dawson and stared at the approaching frigate.

"She has 28 guns, sir." keeping his voice low.

"I see them."

"We are crippled and cannot run from them." Cullin continued, never taking his eyes from the British ship, now less than 300 yards from them, and closing. Nearly within hailing range.

"What do we do, Captain?"

"Take the offensive. Hand me my speaking trumpet."

End of Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N First of all, thanks so much for the encouraging feedback from Miss Flossy and Ancatgaelige! I really, really appreciate it. Glad you both are enjoying the story!_  
Chapter 3 – The Encounter 

As sailing master Cullin handed Dawson the speaking trumpet, a strong voice from the British ship burst out over the water.

"The ship ahoy! The ship ahoy! What ship is that?"

Dawson held the speaking trumpet to his lips and answered for all his was worth, trying to project as much authority as possible under his circumstances.

"American merchant vessel, _Odyssey, _from Boston, Captain Dawson commanding. What ship is _that_?"

There was a brief pause then the commanding voice from across the water answered.

"His Britannic Majesty's Ship, _Surprise_, 28 guns, Captain Aubrey commanding."

"Her gun ports are open, sir." Cullin said low enough for Dawson's ears only.

"We're no threat to them, Thomas. Only a pirate or privateer would fire into an unarmed ship."

"Let's hope this is not a ruse." Cullen said quietly, studying the stranger.

They were close enough now for Dawson to see the familiar blue and gold of the Royal Navy uniforms, the cocked hats on the commanding officers, the black top hats on the midshipmen. Her crew were scurrying about the single deck, many topmen visible in her rigging, and all eyes were trained on the Odyssey.

While it was disconcerting to be the object of so much intense scrutiny, Dawson steadfastly maintained his commanding stance. He would not allow the British to discountenance him. His experiences with the Royal Navy on various occasions taught him that intimidation was one of their greatest assets. With over a thousand sail in their massive navy, who could oppose them?

The British officer continued. "Have you had trouble, sir? You ship is badly knocked about."

The two ships were close enough now that Dawson could clearly see it was the captain who was speaking to him. A very large, tall man with golden hair visible beneath the cocked hat. Authority incarnate.

"We had encountered a squall for nearly two days and were blown off course."

"What is your destination, sir?"

"Naples, Italy. We're bringing in our cargo."

There was a substantial pause this time. Dawson watched as the British captain conferred with his officers. As the silence continued, he could see the British lieutenants with their spyglasses to their eyes, paying rapt attention to the goings on aboard the Odyssey lest the merchant ship be something other than what she purported to be. The French and Spanish had been known to employ such a ruse. Glancing up at the _Surprise's _fighting tops, Dawson saw the distinctive red coats of the Royal Marines, their muskets at the ready. It was obvious this British ship had cleared for action and was taking this meeting seriously.

The British captain turned decisively back to speak to the American captain.

"Sir, may I send a boat with my officers and repair on board of you? Let us talk, if you please."

Dawson caught Cullin's eye and had to restrain himself from shaking his head in frustration. _Damn!_ They probably did not believe his story about going to Naples and wanted to search his ship to verify the story for themselves. What was worse, Dawson was in no position to refuse them. The 28 guns peeking through their ports at him compelled cooperation.

Despite this reality, he was becoming increasingly irritated with British "policy" of stopping and searching neutral merchant vessels on the high seas, ostensibly for contraband. Because America did not yet possess a strong maritime force to put an end to the practice - thanks to the passive Jeffersonian administration - it continued unabated.

He and Cullin could see no other option but to agree to be boarded. With reluctance, Dawson called over across the water. "Very well. I will receive your officers."

While Dawson possessed the right papers to verify his destination, port of origin, and the cargo in his hold, he had no protection whatsoever against the British helping themselves to several of his best hands if their ship was undermanned.

He turned and spoke quietly to Cullin. "Make sure my daughter stays down in the orlop and out of sight. She is to continue helping Dr. Samuel tend the wounded." He looked around his ship just then and noted with irritation that the repair work had slowed considerably as many of his crew were watching the British ship.

"And get those men back to work! We have serious repairs to make and I'll not have our "guests" cause an interruption. We've lost too much time for nothing as it is."

Cullin turned and bellowed at the hands. "Get back to work, you lot! Damn your eyes! Think the ship will fix itself? You there! Haul in those sheets - on the double!"

Dawson turned his attention back to the Surprise and saw she had already lowered her gig into the water. A typical Royal Navy boarding party was climbing in, complete with six armed Royal Marines.

'_May Providence be with us'_ he offered up silently as he watched the gig row closer to the Odyssey.

End Chapter 2

Comments, please? Thanks everyone! 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 – The Boarding 

Captain Dawson resisted the irrational impulse to pace about his deck as the British gig drew closer with each stroke of the oars. Such a display of agitation would serve no purpose except to reveal his unease to those watching him across the water and possibly increase the suspicion of the boarding party.

Thomas Cullin came up from below decks and stood beside his captain.

"I've told Kathryn to stay where she is needed and not to come to the main deck until she is told."

Dawson's gaze never left the approaching boat. "Did you tell her why? She doesn't like mysteries."

"Yes, she knows. She also knows that there is not a man on board who wouldn't kill to protect her, especially you and Joseph."

Dawson's jaw clenched at the mere thought of anyone – especially the insolent British – harming his daughter. "I'll kill them with my bare hands if they …" He stopped this immediately before the horrific images he had in his mind were given a voice. There was precious little time to dwell on anything but the immediate situation.

The _Surprise's _gig was now along side _Odyssey_, gently rolling on the waves as it was secured to the main chains.

"Cullin, they will want to see our papers."

"I have them."

"Do _not_ show them our muster rolls. Only if they ask to see them."

"I understand, sir."

Dawson turned and walked toward the entry port as he heard the telltale footfalls of men climbing up _Odyssey's _side.

"Let us greet our visitors."

As was typical of a Royal Navy boarding party, the Royal Marines reached the deck first to ensure safe passage for their officers. There were armed with pistols that were ideal for close-quarter situations. The six marines assumed flanking positions – three on either side of the entry port – as the British lieutenant finally gained the deck and stood before Dawson, his cocked hat partially obscuring his face.

He appeared to be a young man, not quite 30, with long dark hair clubbed at the back. "Lt. Pullings of His Britannic Majesty's Ship, _Surprise._" His voice was crisp and formal.

Dawson took a step forward. "Alexander Dawson, Captain of the _Odyssey_."

The lieutenant continued. "Sir, may I see your papers, if you please."

Thomas Cullin handed them over to the British lieutenant who read them over carefully, and finding all was in order, handed them back.

"Captain Aubrey's respects, sir. He inquires if you have wounded aboard and are in need of assistance."

Years in the merchant marine taught Dawson to be wary of overtures like this, but he thought it best to answer honestly.

"We have 22 wounded below and they are being tended to by my surgeon. Ten more are unaccounted for and feared lost overboard in the storm."

For a moment, Dawson saw a flicker of recognition pass across the eyes of the British lieutenant. It was a split-second where the flags and colors and uniforms that currently separated them vanished in the shared understanding of the inherent dangers of their lives at sea. It was the unspoken agreement that despite whatever political machinations may be occurring in their respective countries, the first and truest enemy of any sailor is the sea itself.

"That is a substantial loss, sir." Pullings reflexively looked up at _Odyssey's _rigging and at the men hard at work to effect repairs. "Have you enough crew to man her safely?"

The concern was genuine and Dawson relaxed somewhat.

"Yes, provided we're not struck by another one any time soon. My surgeon tells me the injuries are not severe. Many of my men will be back to duty come the morrow."

The lieutenant nodded. "We experienced only a very hard rain aboard the _Surprise_. Your ship must have borne the full force of the storm from the looks of things."

Pullings turned to face Dawson once more.

"Sir, have you spoken any other ships since your departure from Boston Harbor?"

"Only a few merchant ships. Yours is the first ship we've spoken since the storm."

Dawson could see momentary indecision in the young man's features.

"Sir, we have word of a French ship, 44 guns, sailing in these waters. Being a privateer, they may not respect neutrality laws and would commandeer your vessel. Several British and American merchant ships have fallen into her hands already."

"Have you the name of this ship?"

"Acheron, sir. Be vigilant on your way to your destination and should you sight her, give her a wide berth."

Pullings signaled to one of the marine sentries who summoned the cox'n in the gig to be ready for their departure.

"You have repairs to effect sir. I shall not further detain you." He touched the tip of his cocked hat to Dawson and turned toward the entry port.

"Lieutenant," Pullings stopped with one foot on the tumblehome. "Please convey to Captain Aubrey my compliments. Safe journey."

It was the first trace of a smile he'd seen from the British visitor. "Safe journey to you, sir."

With that, he was gone over the side followed by the six marines, they climbed aboard their gig and rowed their way back to the _Surprise._

Sailing master Cullin appeared by Dawson's side, watching the British board their ship and set sail.

"Well, that went better than we could have expected."

"Yes, but as you just heard from our visitor, we have one more danger waiting for us out here. Let's get her sailing as soon as we can. I don't want to linger here longer than we must."

Cullin nodded and briskly went about supervising the repairs, receiving status reports from each station as he went.

Dawson, armed with the information of a large privateer hunting in these waters, scanned the horizon with a new apprehension.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR


End file.
